


A "Nice" Day in Summer

by SideshowHowl



Series: A Rogue on Fire [1]
Category: Enderal (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Attempt at Humor, Cannibalism, Enderal - Freeform, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fluff but dark undertones, Humor, Isolation, M/M, Multi, Murder, Pet, Psychological Warfare, Quests, Red Madness, Slavery, Suicide Attempt, but really far out because everyone is really messed up, daddy - Freeform, just like the game, really weird relationships, wildly bad language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:28:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27945308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SideshowHowl/pseuds/SideshowHowl
Summary: "This is the story of someone who wanted to be free."Snippets of Nessa (former slave, current Prophetess) and her stories in Enderal. A few different eventualities will be tossed here and there for the various beats of a butterfly's wings.
Relationships: Jespar Dal'Varek & Prophet | Prophetess, Jespar Dal'Varek/Prophet | Prophetess, Jespar Dal'Varek/Tharael, Prophet | Prophetess/Calia Sakaresh, Prophet | Prophetess/Original Female Character(s), Prophetess/Tharael
Series: A Rogue on Fire [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2046506
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is greatly appreciated! I'm relearning how to write again and I know my styles change frequently.

A moment of peace. She blinked at the hues of sunset, realized that she had napped on the broken wagon in front of the mill again. She had to talk to Daddy. He had promised to be back by now and he would most likely need help with dinner. Mommy never helped, she would probably get angry again if she saw her daughter involved with the process, but Daddy would have it no other way. He’d yell otherwise. 

Nessa jumped off and ran up the path to their home. The girl paid no heed to the statues watching the valley, a new addition to the dream, perhaps caused by escaping the estate and servitude with Sirius and _w_ _ ho was Sirius this was now and we’re not letting you remember your life after us little girl you stay right the FUCK here where we’ll feed you nice, crisp pieces of MEAT _ -

She paused midway up, something had caught her eye, and looked at the candles around the grave a ways up against the mountain. A feeling of uncertainty passed before she shook it off and continued. Something about it was familiar. It was the only headstone Daddy allowed in their secret graveyard. Most of the time he’d use every part of the body, otherwise it was just murder, but exceptions existed. Daddy would stay up nights digging holes the rest of the family never discussed. 

Otherwise, the dream started out like all the others had, and the former slave again forgot in the moment how it would end. It never strayed, never showed mercy. The ending was always the same.

In the final moments, at the climax of the terror and guilt Daddy haunted her with, she screamed with all the unworldly horrors he’d forced upon her - both before and after the cannibal had died.


	2. Estate Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forces beyond comprehension have always been at play. Before the beats of a butterfly's wings take effect, one must understand that the butterfly has to be in the right place for fate to move forward.

Nehrim had seen better days. Civil war plagued the country, and victims of the chaos were desperate for work between looting and battles. There were no gods to stop bandits or protect citizens. Nobody was there, not anymore. 

Farms were ordered to provide more crops to feed the masses, and some grew vastly in size as wanderers collected together to find a safe place to stay outside of the wars. Some landlords took advantage of their new workers and stopped paying them, both to save coin and to gain tighter control of their lands by controlling new slaves. Further uprisings incited the use of mercenaries to protect the landlords, a practice that was slowly spreading from estate to estate as their willing workers turned into unwilling slaves. One such farm just North of Ostian was among these, holding forty slaves who provided crops, meat, milk and cheese to the coast. Wagons would carry the fruit of abused labor (ironic, as none were in fact fruit) to the town to ship out across the seas and civil continents for those who needed it. 

At high prices, of course.

However, these ships were slowing the frequency of the routes normally taken. A nervousness among landlords had finally spread to the southern part of the continent, and the owner of this particular estate had sent for several sellswords to protect his farm until things settled from the war. They would have to be paid, but he could get away with paying less if they stayed in the manor. He already paid others to watch the property lines, but they lived in the towns. Still, jobs were jobs. Those lucky enough to have them outside of being a soldier tried hard to keep the money coming in.

These mercenaries were due to arrive anytime this week, and word had spread among slaves old and new. They all slept in the basement of the manor, which had turned into the servants’ quarters. Sleeping bags, piles of hay, and various belongings of refugees littered the floor. Unrest and fear plagued them all from stories of the war and rumors that the Light-Born were dead. Now they (rightfully) feared that these new permanent mercenaries were coming to keep them from running away, or perhaps even have them work harder. How strict did their master pay them to be? 

But, not all of the slaves were present in that room. Creeping down the long hallways above were three of the forty slaves kept on the estate. Sirius was leading the way down the corridor. Nessa fell into step behind him, and Aixon behind her. 

"We should go back guys," The latter whispered. "We don't know how many mercenaries the master hired. We'll be safer here than out  _ there _ ."

"You’d have us put our lives in the hands of some cutthroats?" Sirius whirled around on him. "The Master won't even let us carry knives for protection, and he expects us to trust desperate-for-coin sellswords to guard the estate?!"

"He's not protecting us," Nessa agreed. "He's protecting himself and his valuables. We don't know what those people will really do when they arrive here. What if the next time we're attacked by bandits they use us as human body shields? The bastard's an idiot for sending for anybody during these times anyway. They could be bandits themselves for all we know."

"But you  _ don't _ know what they'll do. He hired them to protect the manor, we-"

"Yeah? Did he hire  _ us? _ " Sirius interrupted. "Has he done anything for us  _ slaves  _ since these wars started? We work in the fields from dawn to dusk, we get two daily meals of sludge, and we wear rags on our backs no matter the season. We put up with looters and bandits unprotected while he just  _ replaces  _ those of us who die. This is our last chance to escape before things get even more fucked up."

"But the two newcomers-"

"Were  _ stupid _ . They left in broad daylight straight from the fields, it was no wonder they were caught! We're leaving under the cover of darkness. We'll follow the road to the piers. Shouldn't take more than a day of walking. We get on one of the last boats traveling to Enderal, it's our last shot!"

"But at least  _ here _ we know what we're dealing with!" Aixon argued. "We can steal knives from the kitchen if protection is what you're worried about, or-"

"Just stay," Nessa said coldly. "You're so afraid of taking risks! You've talked us into staying here twice now and I’m sick of having the same discussion lead nowhere. Stay here in your safety net with the others and the mercenaries. Sirius and I will get on a boat and send for you once we've made enough coin in Enderal. We wish you well and good luck."

Her eyes met his. Sirius was silent as the two waited for Aixon to say anything, hopefully that he would come with them, but to their disappointment (and, selfishly, relief), he reluctantly nodded. "You two...have been good friends. I wish you well and good luck. I'm sorry. I really hope you make it, I do. I think you two are better off staying here though. I've an awful feeling..."

"We wish you the best, friend...But we're leaving with or without you. It's now or never," Sirius nodded and turned to Nessa. "Come on, let's go."

Aixon watched them continue down the corridor and disappear around the corner. He didn't know why, but he had the worst feeling about leaving the estate and boarding a ship. Like something terrible was going to happen. Then again, he had always fallen in line with the other slaves over the years. His fears controlled him. He envied Sirius and Nessa who were finally  _ doing _ something about their awful lives here, even if they would die.

That feeling came again. That awful, terrible wave that tried to pull him into the deepest waters of the ocean and drown him. He was standing at the shore and watching the others get sucked into the currents, never to be seen again.  Aixon was shameful of his fears at other times, but not tonight. Whatever they were getting themselves into, he had made the right decision in staying. 

“Good riddance,” He muttered, and turned around to go back to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think that Aixon wound up dying at the hands of bandits, or starved. Nessa never did hear from him again.
> 
> Consider what happened to Nehrim an eventuality, more so due to my own lack of knowledge on the specifics of what's going on over there. The player has the option to choose what they think of Nehrim and some of their personal experiences in their past, and you can talk to people who have fled, but I've had trouble finding out what the people stuck on the continent are doing with themselves. Sorry for my ignorance. ^^'


	3. Price of Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prophetess has a fear of water.

Nessa had never been so terrified of water before in her life. She begged the captain for mercy, begged like the sympathetic sailors could and would help her, begged like Sirius was still alive and she wasn't about to follow suit. She begged, she screamed and howled without dignity or shame, but no words stopped the sailors from throwing their bodies overboard. 

Terror was replaced by regret. Regret for the life she lived and the ghosts who haunted her. Regret for not being able to save Sirius, regret for not having the means to stop that magical  _ bitch _ from killing them both. The water swallowed the dead and living corpses, and Nessa struggled so hard she felt her shoulders break backwards against Sirius' weight pulling her endlessly down. 

Her will to live wasn't just strong, it was fueled by desperation beyond anything she felt before. It was wild and uncontrollable, because if she died then  _ all of her suffering was for nothing _ . Daddy, her mother and sister, the years as a slave,  _ Sirius _ , was for  _ nothing _ . There had always been a means to an end, a reason for her actions that would lead to their eventual freedom.  Not anymore. Not in the black waters that swallowed everything she ever was or could be.

Nessa's hopes were drowning in that sea with her. The sharp pain of her broken shoulders made her scream, releasing what little oxygen she had left and allowing the cold depths to fill her lungs. It was mocking and cruel. She was falling, endlessly falling towards death just as she had in life. There was no sea floor to stop their bodies, there was no grounding her mind. Not before, not now. 

Nessa was alone when she died, and she was alone when revived. 

It was raining when she came to. She awoke just like in her nightmares on that broken wagon, only now she had no farm or estate to go to. Wet sand served as her broken wagon now, and dark skies replaced the sunset. There was no sensation of falling, no force leading her anywhere. Steps could be taken of her own will now and the past did not need to be repeated.

It was...freeing.

Wind stung her face. Nessa sat up with a shout, looking around for Sirius. Her arms pushed the sand in her scrambling and she realized with a panicked start that she was not only alive, but that her arms were not broken. Her body felt normal. Cold, wet, and oddly electric, but otherwise not even  _ sore _ . Had she imagined it? The sinking into the depths, the strange visions that followed? What really happened?

Nessa felt like a chicken who had lost its head. She screamed for Sirius, screamed for help, screamed for whatever the  _ fuck _ happened on that ship and underwater until her voice was hoarse and salty tears stung her raw cheeks.

She gasped after, realized how thankful she was to fill her lungs with crisp - with  _ clean _ air. Nessa had wound up on her knees in the sand, facing the sea she felt terrified of. Rain washed away the sea salt and grime of her old life. It was the only sound besides her breathing for a while, and eventually she found the strength to stand. She was certain that she had died under that sea. Whatever other-wordly event that happened between drowning and washing up on this beach, it had saved her.

Nessa was alive. She had to be. She felt the sting of mourning and remembered her identity, the events in her miserable existence. With a heavy and  _ deeply _ confused heart, the woman stood in the sand. Her legs wobbled and balance was hard to find, but after a few steps she saw that she was in a cove surrounded by high cliffs. This had to be Enderal.  She'd made it. She was free. Whatever happened, whatever intervened with her death, it had given her a second chance at life...But Sirius was supposed to be here with her. Their shared dreams of freedom and a new life meant nothing without him to continue forward. 

But Nessa never looked a gift horse in the mouth. Her heart weighed heavier than it had ever before, but she forced herself to move. A cave opening was up ahead. If he were here, Sirius would tell her to keep walking, run even, far away from that beach and the nightmares she'd gone through. He didn't die in vain if she lived for them both.

But deep down, she knew he had. Sirius was never freed himself. He died an awful death, was  _ terrified _ in his final moments like Nessa had been, and thus died in vain. The weight on her chest worsened and flared like a fire, a new energy she didn't know how to release.

So her resolve hardened. Whatever happened in those waters had happened, and she was alive. Her begging did not pay off but here she stood anyways.

Nessa went to a running waterfall and pond, tried to see her reflection. Yes, it was her. Her short hair was matted but it was the same cut Sirius gave her on the ship (she looked like a street urchin. It was an awful haircut). Her facial tattoos were still there, a gift from her mother’s Kilean blood. She could flex her muscles and still had control of her body, and even with the unsettling energy flowing through her veins it felt like it was her. 

After everything that just happened . . . She was still  _ Nessa _ . 

After confirming this, she entered the cave. It seemed like the only option out of here. She wasn't going to waste anything this time around. She was going to live her new life, and she was going to live unshackled just as the plan had been all along. She was free. 

_ She was free _ .


End file.
